Good as It's Gonna Be
by Chasing Liquor
Summary: Tag for "The Seed." McKay checks on Keller after the events of the episode. McKeller.


**Disclaimer**: MGM makes a lot of money on DVDs, but they actually _cost_ me money.

**Spoilers:** The Seed.

**Description:** Tag for "The Seed." McKay checks on Keller after the events of the episode. McKeller.

**A/N**: What can I say? I like these two together. I'm always appreciative of feedback, so please do leave me a review and let me know what you think.

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**Good as It's Gonna Be**

* * *

It was a little past ten-thirty, and the city was pretty quiet by then.

Scattered scientists still busied themselves about their various travails, and the night watch security guards could be found here or there, but Atlantis slept through their somber acts.

It felt nice to roam the halls again after being confined to a single room for so long. There was something demeaning about the idea that he was too diseased to leave his quarters, and he'd discovered with great irritation and surprise that the average soldier wasn't as patient as Sheppard or Carter. All he'd asked for was a radio. It was a perfectly reasonable request. Wasn't it?

Didn't matter now, though. City saved and a happy ending and all of that.

But as he wandered through Atlantis' empty corridors, he couldn't shake the one concern which lingered still. He tried in vain to ignore it for at least an hour.

First, he visited Sheppard in the infirmary. He wasn't there but ten minutes before the Colonel dismissed him, rolled over, and promptly went to sleep. How anyone could fall asleep as McKay recounted his fourth grade science fair win was beyond him. Maybe he'd taken too long explaining the mouse's dietary needs.

After that, he went to check on Ronon, but the Satedan fixed him with a glare that made words unnecessary and McKay promptly left him be.

Next was Zelenka, but as he stood outside the Czech's quarters, he was overcome by a surprising burst of tact. His friend was probably sleeping – or if not sleeping, resting. He did have a concussion after all.

There wasn't really anyone else to look in on after that.

Well, that wasn't true. It was just that, the one person he _wanted_ to look in on, well… quite frankly, he didn't have the faintest clue what to say to her. She'd been through something pretty traumatic, and though he wanted so badly to go and look after her, he didn't know how to. Comfort – giving it or receiving it – was something so foreign to him that he'd no notion of where to start.

On the other hand, he'd given enough terrible gifts to know that "it's the thought that counts." But he was pretty sure that was just something a kind woman had first uttered ages ago to pacify a gauche idiot like himself.

He literally changed his mind four or five times, walking in the direction of her quarters and then away from it, so that it may have looked like he was pacing, before he finally resolved himself to the deed and continued down the hallway.

When at last he reached her quarters, he was predictably uncertain of his decision, his hand hovering just above the panel beside the door.

Did she really want to see him? Maybe he'd be better leaving her be.

He'd dealt with enough things alone to know that sometimes it was better just to lie there, and not have a person there to look at you. People always had questions, and as their only motive was to assure themselves you were all right, their every inquiry gave you the opportunity to say that you were fine, until such time as you'd get tired of them asking and tell them a blatant falsehood so as to free them from their conscience's bonds and send them on their merry way, while you went back to your misery.

But he really was worried for her. And it surprised him to realize that he wasn't standing there just so that he could go back and sleep a guiltless slumber. He was standing there for the sake of _her_ slumber.

He finally waved his hand in front of the sensor, hearing a soft chime.

A few moments later, the door slid open to reveal a weary-looking Jennifer Keller.

Even in her fatigue, she was something more than a vision. Her eyes, though they contained the day's events, were still warm and full of precious life, and her smooth face was free from the lines of pain and worry that he'd witnessed some time earlier.

He realized for the first time – or maybe it wasn't – that she wasn't beautiful the way most girls were. Most of them, you lusted for in different degrees; she was the type you more appreciated, like a landscape rendered well in a painting.

"Hi," he began uncertainly.

"Hey."

She looked a little surprised to see him, but not unwelcoming. To his great dismay, though, she waited for him to speak again.

"I was… just, you know, in the neighborhood…"

"Really? My quarters are kind of out of the way."

"Oh, well, I was just… down here doing some… stuff…" He paused, taking a moment to fully appreciate just how pathetic he sounded, before finally abandoning a justification. "Yeah, anyway, um… how, uh… how are you doing?"

She took in a long breath, then let it out, bobbing her head in a so-so gesture.

"I'm okay," she said, though it didn't quite sound authentic. "Trying to... decompress after all of that."

"You're not hurting at all, are you? No headache or anything?"

"No, just tired. But I'm already recovered from… whatever that was."

McKay nodded, but rather than deal with the pertinent issue, he got predictably sidetracked by the science of the matter.

"Well, you know, actually, it's very interesting," he said, lapsing into his familiar gesticulation gibberish. "You see, I think whatever it is that was inside of us was actually the seed for Wraith hive ships. Now, I can't quite tell you how it works, but while we knew that they were alive, we thought they were more like plants than sentient beings. Based on what happened to you, though – "

She held up her hand, frowning.

"Rodney, I'd really rather not hear about this right now…"

McKay frowned himself, kicking a mental boot into his ribs. Why did you say that, you idiot?

"Oh, no, no… of course not. Sorry. I tend to get like that when I'm – "

"Nervous?"

His hands, which had still been gesturing frantically, finally stilled, then fell.

"Yeah."

She looked him over, scrutinizing his face with her doctor's gaze, and he suddenly realized with some embarrassment that she – and it was quite a reasonable conclusion – thought his discomfort was about his own condition.

"You're going to be fine, Rodney," she said tiredly. "I promise the injection worked."

He shook his head quickly, horrified by her assumption.

"No, no, no, it's not that. I – I'm sorry, I'm terrible at this. Look, I just wanted to come and… you know, look in on you." He must have found fault with his phrasing, because he continued before she could reply, "Wait, not like… did that sound creepy? I didn't mean for it to. Well, obviously not. Even a creep doesn't mean to sound creepy. Not that I am one. At least, you don't think so, do you?"

Her lips turned up in an affectionate smile that was something more than he deserved. She looked amused. Whereas most people tended to look exasperated, she just looked amused. It was a special thing.

"No, Rodney. You're not a creep. But I'm fine, though, so you can go and get some sleep. You've been through a lot today too."

'_I'm fine.'_

She'd said it. Eased his conscience. Given him his way out. Just like a person always wants. But the words felt empty to him. He wasn't sure she _was_ fine, and it wasn't enough for her just to say she was. He wanted to _know_. Did that mean something?

"Well, no one expects you to be _fine_ already, Jennifer. What happened to you was terrible. You had to be scared out of your mind."

She looked away a moment, pondering a lie and then conjuring the truth.

"Yeah, I was."

"I don't blame you. It was bad enough just knowing it was in me. And then knowing you were somewhere else and they had me locked in my damn room. And when Teyla told me they had just_ left_ you there, I wanted to make like Clint Eastwood and start – "

He stopped himself, ducking his head in embarrassment about what he was pretty sure he'd just conceded.

"Well, anyway," he kept on, "It's – I know you're not fine, and I wanted to tell you if you're not fine, then you can… be not fine with me, because I really don't mind. But if you'd rather be not fine by yourself, I understand. I just… well, you know, if you…"

"Rodney?"

"Hmm?"

He looked up to find her smiling again, though this one was slighter, tempered by something he couldn't sense. She looked so much like a woman who deserved things.

"Thanks," she said quietly. "You're right. I'm… I mean, I _will_ be fine. But I'm not quite right now."

McKay nodded dumbly.

"Oh. Oh, you're not. Okay. Well, you know, I'm… at your… service? Whatever that means. To be honest, I'm not really sure. See, people don't usually want me there when they're not – "

"Rodney?"

"Yes?"

"You can start by just hugging me."

The scientist nodded quickly, trying not to look surprised.

"Oh, yeah, yeah. Sure."

She did most of the work for him, reaching out and snaking her arms around his back, then pressing her head against his chest. There was a delay – like you might see in a satellite news interview – before he finally reached his own arms around her, gripping her lightly at first, and then tightening when her own hold seemed to demand it.

They stayed like that for a while, and he tried to just experience it, rather than think of anything. He'd never hugged her for more than an instant at a time, and it felt like something he wanted to do again.

She'd showered since the ordeal with the organism, and smelled of a different soap than the military-issued variety he was accustomed to. It was a flowery scent – lilacs or roses or… hell, he'd never been one for distinguishing one flower from another. He was moved to try now, though.

After a time that felt all at once eternal and fleeting, the doctor finally pulled away from him. He thought she might be about to dismiss him, as Sheppard had, but instead she did something else.

Her eyes, so dear and vulnerable, looked into his timidly.

"Would you mind coming in for a little bit?"

The only thing that felt safe to do was nod, so he did, not trusting himself to actually speak. There were moments in life when something was as good as it was going to be.

She needed him, he realized as he followed her inside. And it didn't feel much like a burden.

* * *

**FIN**


End file.
